


Waiting at the Finish Line

by Princessfbi



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Carlos Misses TK A Lot, Carlos Reyes Needs a Hug (9-1-1 Lonestar), Established Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, F/M, Fire Wives Club, Fluff and Angst, Grace Ryder is Magnificent, Grace's Spirituality is Briefly Mentioned, Implied/Referenced of Minor Character Death, Loneliness, M/M, Mentions of Events from the Crossover, Mentions of Explosion from 1x01, Minor Angst, Missing scene from 2x03, Sad Carlos Reyes (9-1-1 Lone Star), Stolen Hoodies, Worried Carlos Reyes (9-1-1 Lone Star)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:02:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29228160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princessfbi/pseuds/Princessfbi
Summary: Carlos is struggling with being stuck back in Austin while TK is fighting the wildfires. He receives a surprised guest who is right there with him.
Relationships: Carlos Reyes & Grace Ryder (9-1-1 Lone Star), Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Grace Ryder/Judd Ryder (9-1-1 Lone Star)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 213





	Waiting at the Finish Line

It was ridiculous. Carlos knew better than anyone what the life of a first responder was like. He was more than articulate with the long nights where his bed sat cold and empty. He knew the stretch that settled deep into the muscles and pulled at his heart when he was on duty and had to miss out on birthdays, holidays, and special occasions.

He _knew_ what it was like to be in a relationship that was shared between two people and a job.

But that didn’t make missing TK any easier. It didn’t make _worrying_ about TK any easier. Not when Carlos would come home to an empty bed and turn on the news until his eyes were so dry that they hurt and felt heavy with exhaustion in his head.

TK and the 126 had been fighting the wildfire for over a week and the only thing that managed to slow his hammer heart that echoed in his too quiet condo was the few minutes he was given with TK’s voice in his ear during their brief phone calls. TK sounded spent like he was forever out of breath but he was alive and it was enough to sooth the nerves that tingled beneath his skin.

It was the last phone call that really did Carlos in; where the stress of looking out onto the horizon and seeing the ominous glow in the sky even in Austin as the wildfires shifted course with the wind turned tense and the quiet growing panic that had taken over the city had grated against Carlos’s frayed nerves. His last phone call was what broke Carlos a little. 

“TK?” He asked and then heard the gentle hum of his boyfriend over the line.

It was in the realization that TK had fallen asleep mid-sentence about the out of state firefighters coming to assist that Carlos felt his resolve crumble. He stood there, fist holding his weight against his kitchen countertop, and listened to TK breathe as a slow quiet tear slipped down his cheek.

He _missed_ TK. Missed him like he was a part of Carlos’s soul and in a scary sort of way, he kind of was. Somewhere between TK deciding that Carlos was worth taking a leap of faith with and now, TK had wormed his way into Carlos’s heart and Carlos had latched onto every drink of his affection he could get. TK’s smile, the one that Carlos couldn’t get enough of, was the balm to all his worry and uncertainty. His laugh, the throaty sound that Carlos dreamt about sometimes, could pull the last of the remnants of the job off Carlos’s shoulders like it was nothing more than a coat to be taken away. His kiss… His arms around him… the weight of him pressed against Carlos was enough to sooth away the sting of anxiety and insecurities. He missed TK more than he’d even thought possible.

“Hey Carlos?” Judd’s deep timbered voice sounded scratchy and hoarse over the phone and Carlos startled. “He’s knocked out for the night.”

Carlos sniffed and shoved his hand against his eyes to wipe away the tears that were threatening to spill over. He squashed down the resentment at Judd for taking the phone away because Carlos would sit and listen to TK snore if given the choice. But there were others who had loved ones at home.

Loved ones like Carlos who were stuck with nothing to do but watch the endless news coverage and hope they didn’t see anyone get carted off in the background.

“I figured,” Carlos said, thick and quiet. 

“I’ll tell him you said goodnight, okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Judd. Stay safe.”

And when Carlos hung up the phone, the silence of his condo rang like an out of tune bell and flooded his ears. He drifted into his too cold, too big bed and curled on his side in the middle of the mattress to see if that would help make the void bearable.

It didn’t.

He knew better. Hell, he’d been in TK’s place several times. Not fighting a raging inferno but every cop knew that there was a possibility that when you put on your uniform there was a chance you wouldn’t be taking it off. Every first responder knew that there was a chance they wouldn’t make it home.

Maybe it was because the sting of Tim Rosewater’s death still pulsed under their skin. He hadn’t known the paramedic well but they’d worked plenty of scenes together for Carlos to miss his quirky pop culture comparisons whenever a situation turned a little weird.

 _“Netflix.”_ He’d said whenever there was a reference Carlos didn’t quite get.

He’d been a weird guy but a good paramedic.

TK and Carlos had stayed on the stairs for over an hour before he’d finally been able to coax him to bed. But Carlos didn’t know what to do when there wasn’t anything for him to do. TK was _working_ and Carlos wasn't and Carlos was being ridiculous.

But it still felt like TK was an Icarus and Carlos was stuck on the ground watching him fly closer and closer to the sun and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.

And if he buried his face in the hoodie TK left behind the last time he’d seen him--- a hoodie that still smelled like TK's shampoo and Carlos was pretty sure he was never going to return--- then that was his business. 

* * *

A chopper had gone down somewhere in the path of the fire. It had _crashed_ and no one had any reports whether or not there were casualties or survivors and Carlos couldn’t tear his eyes away from his phone as he refreshed the news site over and over again. He’d turned on his TV but no one had any further information and had carried on with the false cheer over stupid things that didn’t mean anything _when a chopper had gone down and TK---_

The knock on his door was polite but firm.

Carlos tried to force himself not to spiral out of control in the possibilities as it felt like he was moving up stream in the thickest, muddiest water towards the door. But he wasn’t expecting anyone and he hadn’t heard from TK since before the helicopter went down. He was a cop so he knew that a door knock could be the beginning of the end. But they wouldn’t have come to Carlos to deliver him the news. No, they would’ve gone to Gwyn and Carlos wouldn’t know until---

He opened the door with a brave face, expecting the worst, but hoping for boring.

A thousand guess and Carlos never would’ve picked Grace Ryder standing on his doorstep. 

Carlos had only met Grace a few times but there was something about her that could’ve soothed even the worst wave of panic. She reminded Carlos of honey. Smooth and sweet with a demure southern smile and a voice that lingered like syrup from one syllable to the next. She was a tiny woman in comparison to her husband but Carlos had heard her on dispatch enough times to know that what she lacked in stature she made up for in conviction.

Grace was wearing a zip up hoodie that pooled at her wrists and fell to her knees. Judging from the AFD on the shoulder, Carlos would wager a guess that it was Judd’s and Grace had procured it much like Carlos had held onto TK’s.

“Something told me that you could use a friend and some good ol’ comfort food that comes best in a casserole dish,” she said, holding up a sizeable ceramic dish covered in tin foil.

“I—” Carlos blinked at her, confused because they knew each other but not very well and not outside of the firehouse or work.

Grace smiled and tilted her head. “This isn’t my first lonely night as a fire wife. I figured you could use the company.”

And he did. Desperately. Carlos didn’t realize just how much he did until she said that and soon he was ushering her inside and watching as she made herself at home in his kitchen to heat the oven. She tutted to herself as she slid the oven door closed and curled hands together in front of her.

“It’s not much but it’s a breakfast casserole so you’ll have left overs to keep you fed for the next couple of days.”

They stayed there for a moment, relieved to have someone else to fill the space but awkward in the newness of it all.

“Wine?” Carlos asked, his hands itching for something to do.

“Yes!”

Which was how Carlos found himself propped against his kitchen island drinking a white wine that was too sweet to go with a breakfast dish but tasted wonderful in comparison to the bitter dryness of anxiety and panic. The casserole was heavy in all the best ways and managed to fill some of the hollowness that had been in Carlos’s stomach. Eggs and cheesed mixed with spices and peppers that lit up his tongue and heated his mouth as he devoured bite after bite. He didn't realize how hungry he was and couldn't remember the last time something tasted other than like ash when he forced himself to eat. 

He and Grace didn’t say much--- she had a way of making everything comfortable so that even Carlos’s reeling thoughts of having essentially a complete stranger in house quietened a little--- and seemed content to be in the company of someone else who was riding the same stressed out wavelength. It should be weird. It _was_ weird. But for the first time in a long time, Carlos felt a little less alone.

But the reprieve brought on a wave of guilt. TK was the one out there doing something that mattered. TK was the one who could be trapped in the shards of a crashed helicopter on the side of a hill. TK was---

Carlos felt his hand reaching for his phone before the recognition of the instinct traveled up his arm and turned into a thought in his brain.

Grace’s warm hand curled over his and Carlos stopped.

“You aren’t doing them any favors worrying yourself into knots.”

She watched him with a knowing look and Carlos knew in that moment that all the tangled feelings he’d been twisting around himself were something that she was equally intimately familiar with. But he was worried. He was so worried, it hurt and he hated that there was nothing he could do to help. It wasn’t like he was on duty and he happened to respond to a scene where the 126 and TK were also dispatched. He wasn’t Officer Reyes responding.

He was just Carlos. Carlos, stuck at home and forced to wait while TK did his job. Carlos, who was no help at all; helpless.

He hated it.

Carlos looked up at Grace again. The sweatshirt swallowed her frame and swaddled her as if it was Judd himself holding her from behind. Carlos hadn’t wanted to stretch TK’s hoodie by putting it on with his broad shoulders but maybe TK would forgive him anyway.

But Grace looked… _tired_ and Carlos felt that same tired weight deep in his bones. The kind of tired that made keeping your eyes open for one second longer after a thousand of seconds of being on edge in anticipation. But unlike Carlos, she seemed to embrace tired with an exasperated, familiar lean.

“How do you do it?” Carlos felt himself asking, the wine making him feel a little disassociated from his body like a spirit trapped in the wind. “How… I’m so worried and I… I can’t stop thinking about him up there and…”

Grace sighed and smiled up at him, a little sad and a little tired but still warm like honey.

“I pray,” Grace said, fiddling her fingers around her cross necklace. “A lot. It gives me clarity and a sense of not being quite so alone with my thoughts. It helps so I can go to sleep at night knowing that even if I can’t be there for Judd that God is.”

And Carlos had never really been a spiritual person. He grew up in a religious household, the same religious stamped household almost every kid in Texas can touch on at some point, but he never felt connected enough to feel like there was someone listening back. But Grace wasn’t pushing; she was simply sharing what got her through the day and Carlos couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever find something like that.

Pain flickered across Grace’s expression briefly.

“I was on the call when the factory blew up.”

Carlos felt everything inside of his _twist_ in agony. He didn’t know that. He’d heard the call over dispatch when every available unit had been sent to try and find survivors but he’d been separated from the 126 universe then. He’d been just another outsider standing on the fringes of the pain that rocked everyone to their core in the aftershocks of tragedy.

“One minute Judd was there and the next…” Grace stopped herself and shook her head. “I heard the blast.”

Carlos dropped his phone and turned his palm so he could clutch her hand just as tight as she was clutching his.

“It took four hours before anyone could tell me that Judd survived,” Grace said with a small smile that shook with relief but stung with the same guilt Carlos knew all too well. “That’s also how long it took for everyone else to learn that he was the _only_ survivor too.”

They stayed quiet for a while, content to just be in each other’s company and holding each other from breaking apart at the seams.

“I just…” Carlos shook his head. “I just feel like I should be there. I feel so…”

“Helpless?”

Carlos nodded.

Helpless. Lonely. Worried. Anxious. Useless. Frustrated.

He felt all of that. He was used to being the one stepping in front of danger and now he was the one on the phone hoping TK would come home.

“There’s a humbleness to be found when you’re forced to wait,” Grace said. “Even when all I want to do is charge into that wildfire myself and drag Judd out by his turnout coat.”

And that was all Carlos wanted to do too. He wanted to be selfish and beg TK to fly closer to Earth. He wanted to beg him to stay out of the sun.

“But we fell for beautiful moths,” Grace added with a smile. “And that flame is always going to call them.”

She lifted a knuckle and wiped a tear Carlos didn’t realize he’d let slip. His throat tightened and he dropped his gaze down to their clutched hands.

“They’ll be all right, Carlos,” Grace said with a certainty that managed to make the minute trembling of his thoughts to quieten in his head.

“What do we do?”

“This.” Grace pushed his food closer to him until he took the fork and ate another mouthful. “And then when they come home, we give them something to remind them that they have someone to fight for waiting for the next time.”

She sighed and pushed her sleeves up to her elbows before she dragged her wine glass closer to her and reached for the bottle.

“We also drink wine,” she said with a teasing smile. “Lots and _lots_ of wine. It’s in the fire significant others’ handbook.”

“I’ll cheers to that.” Carlos laughed in what felt like the first time in days as Grace poured some more wine into his glass as well.

* * *

Carlos woke to a cotton mouth, a headache from the wine, and a buzzing he couldn’t quite place.

He blinked blearily as the still soft light of the morning filtered into his living room, focusing his vision on the shadows cast against his walls from his furniture. The casserole dish was sitting on his coffee table, forks abandoned in a pile of eggs and cheese, and the empty bottle of wine taunted him from beside the empty dirty glasses.

But what was once a time that Carlos dreaded--- waking up alone and with little to no information to go on with TK--- he found himself perfectly content under the buzz of an impressive wine hangover and Grace’s words echoing in his heart as they patched over the bruises.

Grace was curled up on the other end of the couch, sound asleep with her hair protected by the hood of Judd’s sweater. Carlos was going to have to invest in some silk pillowcases for the next time they had to do this.

He never wanted there to be a next time because next time meant having to go through missing TK so much it hurt but if he did have to stay behind, he was glad to have Grace by his side.

The buzzing cut through the fog of sleep still lingering on the edges of his eyes and Carlos sat up with a groan. His back was tight and his stomach was bloated and he was very glad he had the day off or else he would’ve been miserable spending hours sitting in his cruiser.

His eyes landed on the soft light on the coffee table and a spark shocked him awake as he lunged for his phone. TK’s face smiled up at him and Carlos’s thumb couldn’t swipe the screen fast enough to answer.

“TK?”

He nearly tripped himself racing up the stairs to his room so he didn’t disturb Grace.

“Hey babe.” Carlos could hear TK’s smile all the way over the phone. “Did I wake you?”

And Carlos missed him. He missed him so much. But getting to hear his voice eased the weight on his chest.

“Yeah,” Carlos answered, dropping onto his bed and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “But I’m glad you did. I miss you.”

TK cooed in that silly mocking way he always did when he tried to deflect from the fact that he was blushing.

“I miss you too. But it shouldn’t be too much longer. We broke the line and you’ll never believe what happened. This guy, Buck…”

Carlos slipped his hand into the covers and sought out the soft fabric of TK’s hoodie to hold close to his chest as he listened to TK tell him all about how some guy from LA had helped him steal a fire truck to rescue Owen with the rest of the team. It wasn’t the same, hearing TK on the phone and holding his hoodie instead of him, but it was close.

And Carlos did what Grace told him to do.

He reminded TK of what home was like as he listened and talked for the first time in a while where TK wasn’t being called away or Carlos wasn’t suffocating from the choking loneliness and worry.

Because Carlos wasn’t on the sidelines. He was the finish line and TK would be racing home to him soon. 


End file.
